


from auckland to seoul (and all the places in between)

by sunshinesvt



Series: ((my favorite place is with you)) [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Violence, mafia!au, seventeen as an international mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-04 23:19:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinesvt/pseuds/sunshinesvt
Summary: They meet in Auckland. Then Wonwoo chases Mingyu around the world.Wonwoo wonders if this is how he falls in love with him: city by city.





	1. Auckland

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything quite like this before, so forgive me if it ends up sucking! Also, I have absolutely no idea how an international mafia would actually work, so I sort of just made it up on the fly and I hope it works.
> 
> I had absolutely no intention of writing anything like this, but hey, those photos of Wonwoo during the Diamond Edge concert in Seoul got me messed up and thinking about dark!Wonwoo so here we go! 
> 
> Warnings: There are mentions of blood and some graphic descriptions of violence in this.

The first time Wonwoo sees Mingyu, the hues of blue that seep into the city of Auckland are catching in his dark brown hair and the shadows of the night are dancing across his face in a way that makes Wonwoo’s breath catch in his throat. The taller is dressed in a form-fitting tuxedo, his long fingers elegantly wrapped around a wine glass.

When Mingyu notices Wonwoo’s stare, he drops a lewd wink. As the two top operatives in the SEVENTEEN international mafia, the two know each other well, despite never having met in person before.

In the back of his mind, Wonwoo registers the fact that Mingyu is really devilishly handsome, and against all proper protocol, drops a wink in return. It’s not as if Wonwoo doesn’t know that he’s handsome as well- being handsome brings certain advantages in this particular career field.

For instance, right now, Wonwoo is dressed in a tuxedo similar to Mingyu’s, one that he knows brings out his lean form in the best possible way. He turns away from watching Mingyu back to the conversation he was having with his target for the night, a middle-aged New Zealand woman who owned half of Auckland and had somehow managed to piss off some powerful people.

Wonwoo smiles at her, flashing his signature smile that he knows often has people falling over themselves for. Flushing, she smiles in return, a small quirk of the lips that Wonwoo takes as flirty. Sneakily and carefully, Wonwoo takes the opportunity to lean closer to her, press his lips against her ear, and whisper “shall we take this somewhere else?”

She was probably beautiful at some point in her youth, and with any other person, Wonwoo would have taken the chance to indulge himself in someone else’s warmth. But today, he has a mission, one that he can’t afford to screw up. When Wonwoo pulls her out of the large ballroom and into the hallway, he presses her up against a column, trailing his lips against her jaw.

She gasps, but when Wonwoo looks up at her, the blue hues of Auckland only make her look pale and infinitely small, a sharp contrast to how beautiful Mingyu had looked with the colors dancing across his skin.

In the end, it’s rather easy to get the job done. Wonwoo presses a bruising kiss against her lips, harsh and punishing in a way that distracts her completely from the knife that he delicately presses into her chest.

He leaves her there, gasping beautifully as she grasps at his arms desperately in her last breaths, and leaves the party while cleaning his knife with a handkerchief.

 

\---

 

“I have to commend you on another job well done,” Jisoo states, sitting behind his large desk in his abnormally large office.

Wonwoo nods from where he stands in front of the desk, not wavering underneath Jisoo’s easy smile. As the head of the Auckland headquarters, Jisoo was a trustworthy man, delicate and sure in his work. With doe eyes and a gentle smile, Jisoo did not look at all like he belonged in an international mafia ring, let alone as the head of one of the larger headquarters.

“Any preference for where you want to go next?” Jisoo asks, coming around his desk to stand in front of Wonwoo. “There’s no shortage of missions lining themselves up for you.”

Wonwoo just shakes his head and permits Jisoo a small smile. “Anywhere is fine,” he says steadily.

Jisoo nods, turning to look at various files on his desk. “Manila or New York?” he asks.

Wonwoo ponders on it for a moment, before saying, “I haven’t seen Hansol in a while.”

Beaming again, Jisoo hands him a file. “New York it is then. We’ll have a plane ready to take you in the morning.”

When Wonwoo leaves Jisoo’s office, he swings by his room to drop off the file and grabs a jacket. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but Auckland is one of his favorite places in the world. There’s something about New Zealand, with its carefree nature and clear air that Wonwoo loves. He makes his way out of the headquarters and wanders down the street, watching as the blues of Auckland dance in the air around him.

Suddenly, someone is grabbing him and pinning him up against a wall just outside of the convenience store on the corner. Before he knows it, Wonwoo’s got his knife out and has spun his attacker around so that he’s the one pinning him to the wall.

“Nice reflexes.” Wonwoo watches as a slow smirk makes its way onto Mingyu’s handsome features.

Wonwoo doesn’t move his knife from where it’s pressed into Mingyu’s neck. “Shouldn’t have done that,” he says, voice low as he drags his eyes over Mingyu’s face before landing on his pink lips.

“I wanted to see what you would do.” Wonwoo scoffs.

The kid is obviously dumb. Despite Mingyu being the taller one, Wonwoo is older and has many years more of experience. And despite Mingyu climbing the ranks and becoming one of the best operatives in the ring, Wonwoo is still the best and has more murders and completed missions under his belt than the next five best operatives combined. Including Mingyu.

“Did you now?” Wonwoo asks, keeping his voice low.

Mingyu nods, smirk still firmly in place, before he licks his lips. “It was quite impressive.”

Wonwoo scoffs again, pressing closer into Mingyu’s space. “Nothing impressive about a simple defensive move, Mingyu.”

“I wasn’t talking about the move.”

This time, Wonwoo’s the one who smirks. He presses into Mingyu until their chests are pressing together, and Wonwoo’s knife digs into Mingyu’s neck just enough to draw a couple beads of blood. Mingyu moans.

It’s a bruising kiss, much more punishing than the kiss that Wonwoo had pressed to the now-dead target from earlier. It’s harsh and punishing, intoxicating all of Wonwoo’s senses as the two battle for control with their tongues.

Wonwoo’s knife ends up tucked back into his belt, and his hands end up tangled in Mingyu’s hair as they battle in the alleyway. They somehow make it back to the headquarters, a mess of limbs as they tumble into Wonwoo’s single room and onto the bed.

Mingyu is harsh with everything he does, pressing Wonwoo down onto the mattress before attaching himself to Wonwoo’s bare neck. Wonwoo gives as good as he gets, and before he knows it, their clothes are scattered all around the room.

There will be bruises and Wonwoo knows it, but he's been through much worse than the bite marks and scratches Mingyu leaves on his skin. In the end, Mingyu’s long legs wrap themselves around Wonwoo waist as Wonwoo presses into him and sets a punishing pace.

The room smells like sex afterwards, but Wonwoo ignores it in favor of tracing delicate patterns into Mingyu’s skin as he comes down from his high.

The blue of Auckland seeps into his skin.

 

\---

 

He sees Mingyu again in Singapore. Jihoon had handed him a file with the name of the target, who coincidentally, was chatting with what appeared to be Mingyu’s target.

Mingyu just flashes him a cocky grin when Wonwoo slides into the seat across from him and then turns back to look at their two targets sitting a couple tables down.

Wonwoo doesn't, since he's a professional and knows that the targets will be freaked if they notice two strange men staring at them He nudges Mingyu under the table in a silent attempt to get him to stop staring, and then watches as the yellow lights of Singapore shift across his skin in a slow waltz.

There’s a smile inching its way onto Mingyu’s face, but he looks somewhat annoyed when he turns to look back at Wonwoo. “What?” Mingyu asks, and his voice sounds edgier than Wonwoo is used to.

“If you keep staring,” Wonwoo begins, “you’ll tip them off.”

Mingyu stares blankly at him, and then goes right back to staring at the couple. Wonwoo scowls at Mingyu’s side profile. He was so careless, and Wonwoo’s been in this business for long enough to know that careless behavior was dangerous and could end up with them crawling away from the scene holding their own guts in. He’s been there before.

He hatches the plan there, and doesn't give Mingyu the chance to screw it up for him. It's easy enough to lure the couple away from the table and into a secluded alleyway, and there, Mingyu helps him finish off both of their missions.

When they had back to the headquarters to report to Jihoon, Mingyu is all bright smiles and cheerfulness, his voice full of youth when he talks with Wonwoo and grabs onto his arm. In contrast, Wonwoo is not, head full of thoughts of cash and trying to block out the muffled screams he felt as he took another life.

This is the difference between them, Wonwoo realizes. Mingyu is young, twenty-three, and lives for this kind of stuff. He’s young, impossibly young, and he's playing at a game he doesn't fully understand. Despite only being twenty-four, Wonwoo feels infinitely older and weighed down by things that Mingyu could never grasp.

They stagger their way into bed that night, and Wonwoo watches in wonderment as Mingyu laughs above him, finding something funny in everything. He traces Mingyu’s laugh lines with his fingers, and when he comes, all he can think is that Mingyu is perhaps the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

Later, when they’re getting dressed, Mingyu says, “I’m going to be in Jakarta next month.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo says, deliberately casual.

There’s a shadow pooling around Mingyu’s smile, and then it disappears so quickly that Wonwoo wonders if it was even there in the first place. “Okay,” Mingyu says, shy, maybe. He walks over to Wonwoo carefully, and then reaches out and hooks a finger in Wonwoo’s belt loop, tugging him close.

Mingyu’s eyes are brown, a rich brown that reminds Wonwoo of coffee, and it warms Wonwoo to the core.

He wonders how many people there are waiting for Mingyu in every city. Beautiful men, because Mingyu is beautiful, and probably beautiful women too. Wonwoo wonders how Mingyu chooses them. Is there a specific height he likes? A hair color? Does he even like men, or is Wonwoo the singular exception? Does he know all their names, memorized in the back of his mind so that he can call them up whenever he’s in town? Do they let Mingyu dance in and out of lives because he is so young and beautiful and has the whole world in front of him?

Mingyu doesn’t kiss him, just bites at Wonwoo’s earlobe before pulling away. Wonwoo watches as he leaves.

 

\---

  
  
The months pass like this:

In Jakarta, Wonwoo crinkles his nose at the smell of corruption. The golden colors of the city are bright and sparkling, but it's not there to illuminate, it's there to conceal. In this city, among the expensive people, death lurks in the shadows. The tall stack of files representing the amount of deaths people are willing to pay for pile high on Seungkwan’s desk.

And where death lurks, Mingyu does too. Wonwoo finds him in his room and pushes him against the far wall. Mingyu laughs into his mouth, bright and happy, and Wonwoo pretends like he hasn't been thinking about this for the past month.

While he presses himself closer to Mingyu, Wonwoo thinks that only Mingyu could manage to shine under the lights of Jakarta.

In Sydney, Seungcheol watches in amusement as Mingyu and Wonwoo bicker, without real heat, over dinner. And then Mingyu, later that night, gleeful as he slowly unbuttons Wonwoo’s shirt while telling Wonwoo about his latest kill, a single shot straight through the eyes, and how he wished that people would stop making it so easy to kill them. Wonwoo watches the light dance in Mingyu’s eyes as he talks with passion about his job, his life, something that Wonwoo has never felt.

Wonwoo uses his mouth, then his tongue, to chase after the orange city lights reflecting themselves on Mingyu’s skin. When he remembers Sydney in the future, he will remember it like this: Mingyu’s body braced over him and the dizzying heat of it all as Mingyu sears his warmth onto Wonwoo’s skin.

In Tokyo, white lights dance beautifully in the air and Wonwoo can't help but wonder how beautiful they would look dancing on Mingyu’s body as Chan debriefed him. He goes to Mingyu, blood still left on his hands, and Mingyu licks it off, laughing and a little crazed. They fuck everywhere, on the wall, in the shower, and on the floor, where Mingyu complains that he's getting carpet burn but doesn’t unwind his legs from around Wonwoo’s waist for long enough to get them to the bed.

Later, as he watches Mingyu get dressed, Wonwoo becomes incredibly aware of his heart thudding loudly in his chest as he traces the muscles in Mingyu’s back. He knows what he's feeling, he knows what it is when he can't stop thinking about Mingyu when they're apart, when he sees the notes Mingyu leaves for him at the different headquarter, and when he makes his choices about where to go next.

(He always chooses the place Mingyu will be at.)

When Mingyu grins down at him as he leaves, Wonwoo can't help but think, _I’m in love with you._

In Bangkok, Seokmin lends them a boat, and they spend a day lounging around, talking and watching the green hues dance in the air as they float in the water. That night, Mingyu tells him about his past in Bangkok, where he had his first kill. It had been a knife across the throat, messy and bloody, and Mingyu had been twenty-one and did not know that there would be that much blood until he was drenched in it.

Wonwoo remembers his first kill, and he reaches out, to touch Mingyu maybe, to hold him. Mingyu is laying next to him on the bed, naked and beautiful and shining under the moonlight that is filtering in through the windows, but they’re barely touching, just pressed at the shoulders. When Wonwoo’s hand wraps itself around Mingyu’s wrist, Mingyu pulls away and shoot him an irritated look, and Wonwoo knows that he’s drawn a line here: Mingyu doesn’t want to touch him, doesn’t want to be with him, just wants to fuck him.

Wonwoo tucks his hand underneath his head instead, and tells himself that it’s fine. He can be that to Mingyu, can be anything to Mingyu, as long as he gets to have them one piece of him, all to himself.

 

\---

  
  
Hong Kong is beautiful, with red colors that dance happily over the city landscape.

There are three reasons why Hong Kong is Wonwoo’s favorite city, and they are Wen Junhui, Xu Minghao, and their son, Samuel.

As joint heads of the Hong Kong headquarters, Minghao and Junhui are the prime example that you can be a successful mafia member and still have a family and love. Sometimes, Wonwoo pretends that him and Mingyu have that too.

Junhui takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke into the air, before turning to look at Wonwoo. “Something is different about you,” he drawls, flicking his cigarette at him. “What's going on?”

Wonwoo curses whatever higher power decided that Junhui would be his best friend. Wonwoo might be one of the best operatives of the SEVENTEEN mafia, but he has never been able to hide anything from Junhui, who would always be able to see through him.

“Nothing,” Wonwoo mutters.

“You're lying,” Junhui states. “Remember who you're talking to here.”

Wonwoo doesn't say anything, but it's clear from the look on Junhui’s face that he already knows. “Mingyu?” he asks.

Wonwoo doesn’t give any indication that he heard what Junhui said. He doesn’t even wonder how Junhui knows, just knows that it’s probably obvious how he feels, considering how he’s been chasing Mingyu. Wonwoo wonders if it would possible to see the path that he took, falling in love with Mingyu city by city.

Junhui just sighs. “You're allowed to be happy, you know. You deserve it.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “I kill people for a living, Junhui. I hardly deserve it.”

Junhui laughs at him. “Everyone you know kills people for a living. Hell, I kill people for a living. Doesn't mean we shouldn't be happy.”

Wonwoo just rolls his eyes. “Don't tell me you suddenly developed a moral compass, Won,” Junhui says pointedly. “You know those aren't anything but trouble in this field.”

Wonwoo doesn't know what to say, so he just nods. Junhui keeps staring at him, and Wonwoo hates it, hates it how Junhui can look at him and see everything Wonwoo tries to hide.

“You're too good for this,” Junhui says, and his eyes show something sad, far too sad for Wonwoo’s tastes. “Sometimes I even wonder how you ended up here.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to tell him to _fuck off_ because Wonwoo’s not a good person, he's a rather shitty person, and this is where he belongs. He's cut off by a voice in the doorway behind them.

“Papa?” They turn to see a four year old Samuel in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

Junhui stubs the cigarette out with his foot, and makes his way to his son. “Hey Muel-ah,” he says, ruffling his hair. “Isn't it your bedtime?”

“Yes it is,” another voice chimes in from the doorway. Minghao is leaning against the doorframe, smiling fondly at his husband and son.

“Daddy says you need to come tuck me in,” Samuel says sleepily. And Junhui may be wanted in about all of the countries on earth, but there is nothing more terrifying than a four-year-old who is tired and capable of throwing a temper tantrum when they don’t get enough sleep.

Junhui gives in easily and picks Samuel up into his arms, nodding to Wonwoo before turning and heading back inside. Minghao lingers for a moment. “It's good to see you,” he says. “We’ll get lunch together next time, yeah?” Wonwoo nods and watches as Minghao goes to join his family in their quest to put Samuel to bed.

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Wonwoo wonders what it would be like to have that with Mingyu.

 

\---

  
  
Wonwoo chases Mingyu. To him, it seems like he’ll be spending the rest of his life doing this: chasing Mingyu to wherever it is that he is just to spend a night or a day with him. He knows that he shouldn't, that what they have couldn't possibly work out, but he does it anyway because there's one thing Wonwoo has learned so far and it's that he would follow Mingyu to the ends of the earth if he had to.

This is Manila:

Soonyoung smiles and laughs at Wonwoo over dinner, and it reminds Wonwoo of back when they were normal kids before they turned to this road. Before Soonyoung became a mafia mastermind in charge of Manila and before Wonwoo became a murderer capable of killing without a second thought. Wonwoo tells Mingyu all of this that night, panting in bed, and Mingyu runs his hands gently through his hair. Wonwoo relishes in the moment when he presses further into Mingyu’s embrace and he doesn’t push him away.

And Jakarta, again:

Mingyu smiling up at him from underneath as Wonwoo drives into him relentlessly. They press kisses into each other’s mouths, harsh and brutal before fading into something far more intimate. Jakarta shines outside of the window, gold and silver dancing in the air, but Wonwoo can’t look away from Mingyu, never away from Mingyu, who has got his hands twined in Wonwoo’s hair and is pulling insistently, who is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

And Hong Kong:

Wonwoo gently squeezing at Mingyu when he goes to the bathroom in the middle of the night, only to return to Mingyu blinking up at him sleepily, his lips bruised and hair tussled. Wonwoo has to kiss him then, and Mingyu is giggling and trying to push him away, complaining about morning breath, but Wonwoo doesn’t care and keeps kissing him until they just taste like each other.

And then there’s Auckland, where it all started:

Blueprints spread out on the bed between them as they discuss a plan. It’s Wonwoo’s mission, but they’re both looking at the blueprints, the conversation stretching out until early morning while they sleepily talk about the job and then Wonwoo’s family and then Mingyu’s childhood and then Wonwoo’s hopes and then Mingyu’s dreams. They fall asleep like that, curled around the papers on the sheets, Wonwoo’s hand grasping lightly at Mingyu’s arm.

Except. This is New York City:

They're leaning over the balcony in one of the New York City headquarter’s best rooms, smoking and staring out at the city lights. Mingyu turns to him, and the pink hues of the sky dance over his bare torso. Out of the corner of his mouth, Mingyu says, “don’t fall in love with me.”

Wonwoo doesn't say anything, just to looks at him and thinks, _of course._ Because Mingyu is twenty-three, too young and too beautiful to ever be tied down by love, and Wonwoo feels so tired, like he's trying to hold a handful of sand and is helpless to stop the grains from slipping between his fingers.

Wonwoo doesn't reply to him, just turns away and listens as Mingyu gathers his things and leaves, because that is a promise that he can't make or keep.

He thinks, _it's already too late._


	2. To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> File X, Taipei.

There's a file that sits on Jeonghan’s desk in Taipei, one that has been opened a thousand times but never closed for good. There's a simple reason for this: the mission is batshit crazy and any operative that wants to see the light of tomorrow turns it down.

When Wonwoo had first seen it, he had immediately decided that there were too many uncontrollable factors and too many things that could go wrong with the mission, never mind the fact that the target is one of the most dangerous people to ever live and all assassination attempts ever conducted on his life have failed horrifically. The file has adapted the name File X because no operative has ever been crazy enough to take it and has become quite infamous in the organization. 

So, when an operative takes the mission, the news spreads like wildfire.

And of course, of course, he would be dumb enough to try it in some macho attempt to prove his skill as an operative. Wonwoo wonders if Mingyu even has a brain in his head or perhaps he decided to give up on life and thought that this would be a good way to go.

He's in Sydney when he finds out. Jeonghan had called Seungcheol the instant that Mingyu had taken the job and Wonwoo had been in the room when he found out. He's got his phone out and is calling Mingyu before his mind can even wrap itself around the idea. 

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu greets, and Wonwoo closes the door to his room and walks briskly to the balcony.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says in reply. “I heard that you're taking the job in Taipei.” He yanks the door open, and steps out onto the balcony to breathe in the Sydney air.

“I am,” Mingyu states, happy and bright.

“There's a reason no one takes that job,” Wonwoo urges. “It's impossible.”

“Perfect,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo clenches his fists because he hates when Mingyu gets careless.

“There's too many uncontrollable factors, not to mention that the target is extremely dangerous and paranoid. He's got bodyguards stationed around him at all times and no one who has ever attempted this mission made it out-”

“It sounds difficult,” Mingyu says cheerfully, and Wonwoo can just imagine his bright smile.

“It's an accident waiting to happen,” Wonwoo says, “you'll die.”

“Probably,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo hates this, hates the tone of his voice. “Just don't worry about it. Listen, I have to go, jobs to do-”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says.

“And frankly,” Mingyu says and his voice transforms into something so cold, far colder than anything Wonwoo has ever heard from him, and it sends chills running down his spine and a hollow feeling rising in his chest, “it's not really any of your business.”

It shouldn’t hurt this much, but it does.

He eyes Sydney spread out beneath him, all bright and neon and happy, and the hollowness spreads inside his chest. 

“You're right,” Wonwoo says. Even to his own ears, his voice sounds distant and numb.

“Shit,” Mingyu curses. “Wonwoo-”

Wonwoo hangs up.

 

\---

 

Mingyu chases him down to Tokyo. He finds him on the roof of the headquarters, and they stand together under the stars.

It's been almost a year since they met in Auckland, Wonwoo thinks as he stares at the night sky. A year he spent chasing Mingyu to the ends of the world, running in circles, hoping to catch something that he thinks he’ll never reach. It's been a year of loving someone who doesn't know what love is.

Wonwoo is twenty-five now, but he feels so, so old.

He remembers being five and watching as his parents kissed each other before they went to work, happy and in love, his father clasping at his mother’s hands and telling her that she was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He remembers the day that his brother brought home his first girlfriend, the first of many, but he had genuinely loved her, smiling brightly at her at like she was a piece of art as worthy of praise as the Mona Lisa. He remembers Minghao and Junhui’s wedding, when Minghao had turned to look at Junhui like a sunflower turns to look at the sun, and when Junhui had cradled Minghao in his arms at the reception as if he was holding the most precious thing in the world and he could not bear to lose it. 

He remembers Junhui pulling him into a hug after the reception, thanking him for being his best man and telling him that one day, he’ll feel love too, and when he does, it will be the most wonderful thing in the entire world.

And yet, no one, not Junhui or Minghao or his brother or his parents had ever told him this: that being in love was a little bit like drowning, and being in love with someone who didn’t love you back was like drowning and knowing with absolute certainty that no one was going to save you.

 

\---

 

Mingyu tips back his whiskey, knocking it down his throat. 

He says, “I’m in love with you.”

Wonwoo watches as the stars flicker above them, and there’s a sour taste in his mouth.

Wonwoo says, “You can tell me all the lies you want, Mingyu. Just not that one.”

Mingyu chuckles, but it sounds empty and flat. “I know it’s not what you’re expecting. You wanted something more.”

“More,” Wonwoo echoes.

“More. You want to be like Junhui and Minghao and have a spring wedding in New Zealand and have a bunch of little children running around while we live out our lives in domestic bliss.”

“That,” Wonwoo says, “is not what I want.”

“Maybe,” Mingyu says. “But it’s all the same. I can’t give it to you.”

Wonwoo turns to look at him then. He knows that, he’s always know it. But he still asks, “why not?”

“Look at us,” Mingyu says sharply, and Wonwoo instantly knows what he means because he’s thought about this every day since they first met. “We’re so different. I’m not like you, Wonwoo, I’m not jaded to this lifestyle, not like you. I love this, do you understand? I love this job, what I do. I love waking up in a new city every morning and I love taking jobs that I’m not sure I’ll live through and  _ I love it _ , Wonwoo.”

Mingyu sets the glass down sharply on the rooftop ledge, and the sound makes Wonwoo flinch. “I’m not like you, Wonwoo,” he repeats. “I took this job, got involved in the mafia because I wanted to. My family thinks I’m dead, my friends from back home think I’m dead, and that’s the way I want it. I didn’t have any other reason to join other than the fact that I wanted to. And I love it, and Wonwoo, this job, it’s  _ everything  _ to me.”

Mingyu curls his fingers in his fist. “I love you,” he says, and he sounds as tired as Wonwoo feels, “but it isn’t enough.”

Wonwoo looks down at his hands. “I can wait, Mingyu,” he says softly. “I can wait. Christ, I’ve wanted this since Tokyo-”

“Tokyo?” Mingyu asks. “I’ve loved you since Auckland.”

“Auckland.” Wonwoo feels like he’s falling, drowning, and he can’t breathe.

“Auckland,” Mingyu says, “but it doesn’t matter. Because I hate this, I hate feeling like this. Did you know I turned down a big mission, just so I could meet you in Hong Kong? I felt like shit afterwards, because I need this, I need this job, because it’s a part of me. And I can’t need you, not like that.”

Mingyu turns away from him, and the colors shift across his face, almost like water ripples on the surface of a lake. “I thought I could do it, for a while, have both. But then you called me about Taipei and I can’t, Wonwoo. I can’t keep doing this.”

“I can’t keep hurting you,” Mingyu whispers. “But I can’t stop. So we need to end this, whatever this is.”

“End it,” Wonwoo echoes. “Right.”

Mingyu looks at him, and there’s something unreadable in his eyes. Wonwoo just stares blankly back at him. 

“If I were anybody else,” Mingyu says. “It could’ve worked.”

He pulls himself away from the ledge, and Wonwoo watches as he makes his way to the door. “Fuck,” Mingyu says, and then he turns back around and places a kiss on the corner of Wonwoo’s mouth. “I’m going to Taipei.”

Wonwoo closes his eyes. He doesn’t say anything. He can’t.

He doesn’t see Mingyu leave, but he can feel it.

 

\---

 

The days after go like this:

Drinking himself sick in Singapore, watching as the red hues flicker sickly across his skin. Junhui calls him, says, “I thought you were coming here for the weekend. Where are you?” Wonwoo hangs up.

Fucking up a job in Manila. The target looked like Mingyu. Soonyoung looks at him in pity, and Wonwoo ignores him in favor of looking out the window to watch the purple shades drag itself sluggishly across the sky.

Getting a call from Seungcheol, telling him, “you need to take a break.” Wonwoo just says, “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

There’s a guy in New York City, someone much shorter and less attractive than Mingyu, and if Wonwoo moans the wrong name, well, he didn’t say anything. Wonwoo leaves with a sour taste in his mouth. 

Jisoo offers him a job in Auckland, but Wonwoo turns it down. He can’t do it. Not Auckland.

 

\---

 

Wonwoo hates Seoul. 

There’s something about the way the city emits gray fumes that makes him feel like he’s choking, like he can’t breathe, like he’s trapped. 

He makes his way down the street, and it distinctly looks like the one he used to live on. Wonwoo remembers Seoul. It was the place where he started, where he started going down the path that he’s currently on.

He wanders down the crowded sidewalk slowly, knowing that he blends in perfectly here, on the streets in his hometown. He watches the people pass by him and wonders what lives they live. Whether they’re happy, whether they have families. In another life, he would have been one of those people too.

The building he arrives at is as drab as ever, and he makes sure to stay a safe distance away as he eyes it up and down. It’s been a couple of years since he’s been back here, but it still looks the same, sturdy and secure in a way that Wonwoo’s life has never been. There’s a bell, and then the children come flooding out of the doors, chatting and laughing with innocence that Wonwoo remembers having once. 

He spots him, a little taller but still looking the same, his head thrown back in glee as he laughs at something his friend says. It’s been years, but Wonwoo can still see the same happiness and youth in his brother’s eyes that was there when he left.

Wonwoo makes sure to pull up his hood, to make sure that he isn’t seen, because he knows that if his brother saw him, it would be over. His brother was happy, safe, and healthy-ish, able to thrive off of the money that Wonwoo directs into his bank account every couple of weeks. It’s enough to make Wonwoo feel okay about himself, and he turns to walk back to his apartment.

Seoul, to Wonwoo, will always represent something sour. It was where his parents died when he was twelve, and then where his brother was diagnosed with leukemia when Wonwoo was sixteen. It was where Wonwoo first called Seungcheol, begging for a job, begging for anything, that could help him save his brother’s life. Humble beginnings, and where it all went wrong.

 

\---

 

The apartment is one that Wonwoo remembers buying when he was nineteen and needing a place he could fly under the radar. It’s drab and gray and he hates it, but it’s the closest thing he has to a home, one that is truly his.

He’s sitting in it now, on a rusty, old chair that Wonwoo remembers picking up off of the street. There’s nothing beautiful to watch, and Wonwoo wonders if this is how every place in the world will seem to him now: empty and pathetic without Mingyu.

His phone rings, and when he sees the caller ID, his heart drops, although he’s been expecting this for months now. 

Jeonghan’s voice is soft and cold at the same time, and his words sound hollow in Wonwoo’s ears.

He says, “I can be in Taipei in two days.”

 

\---

 

It takes three layovers and thirty-seven hours of barely sleeping, but Wonwoo gets there.

To him, Taipei has always been a city of color, rainbows throwing themselves into the air and dancing like ballerinas in the sky. 

But now, Taipei is this: sickly white and the harsh lights of the infirmary.

The infirmary was empty save for one bed, and Wonwoo panics for a moment because Mingyu looks  _ dead _ , and why wasn’t there anyone watching him, because now he’s dead and Wonwoo feels his knees buckle underneath him and suddenly he’s clutching at the edge of Mingyu’s blanket and kneeling beside the bed. 

There are no tears, not yet, and Wonwoo just balls his hands up in fists as he thinks about a funeral. Who would even come? The heads of the headquarters, of course, they knew Mingyu, and maybe Wonwoo could invite Mingyu’s family, except that would be awful because they already think he’s dead so they could just come and watch him die a second time.

It would be held in Auckland, Wonwoo thinks, because Mingyu loves Auckland. Or did he like Singapore more? Wonwoo can’t get this straight, can’t figure it out, because his mind is reeling at a thousand miles per minute and he feels so helpless and-

“What are you doing here?” Wonwoo snaps his head up, and Mingyu is looking down at him, blinking blearily. Wonwoo wonders if this is a dream.

“I thought you died,” Wonwoo whispers, and Mingyu furrows his eyebrows at him.

“I didn’t,” he says, and Wonwoo thinks that he might not actually be dead, but he sure looks like it, looking pale and weak and sick underneath the harsh hospital lights. 

“You look terrible,” Wonwoo says, and he resists the urge to hold onto Mingyu and close the distance between them because he doesn’t know if Mingyu would let him cross that line.

“I did get shot,” Mingyu says. “That typically does things to your appearance.”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, just stares at him, Mingyu, who is alive and okay, and he’s still struggling to breathe. “Wonwoo,” Mingyu says, and his eyes soften when he’s looking at Wonwoo. “How did you know?”

Wonwoo doesn’t let Mingyu know that everybody probably knows how in love with him Wonwoo is, and that’s why Jeonghan called him, because he doesn’t want to send Mingyu running in the other direction again, away from him. 

“Jeonghan said you were muttering my name nonstop,” Wonwoo lies, “and he begged me to come get you. Said he just wanted you to shut the fuck up.”

Mingyu laughs at that, and it’s such a beautiful sight: Mingyu with his bright smile on his face, and Wonwoo suddenly can’t breathe again. Without meaning to, he reaches forward to cup Mingyu’s face.

A surprised look flashes across the younger’s face, but he leans into it. The look in his eyes knocks the wind out of Wonwoo’s chest, because this, this look, is all Wonwoo could ever want. It’s soft and adoring, as if Wonwoo was all Mingyu could ever want in the entire world, even though Wonwoo knows that it’s not real and Mingyu wants so much more than Wonwoo could ever give him. 

Wonwoo makes a move to pull away, because suddenly, it’s all too much and Wonwoo feels like he’s drowning again, sinking lower and lower into the depths. But before he could pull his hand back too much, Mingyu is clutching at his wrist, holding it in the air for a moment, before he reaches and intertwines their fingers together.

It’s strange, Wonwoo thinks, how they’ve fucked and kissed and everything, but they’ve never held hands. That was a line that Mingyu would never let him cross, but suddenly, it feels like the line has disappeared and Wonwoo doesn’t know what it means. 

Mingyu is staring intently at their joint hands, eyeing their intertwined fingers and pressed-together palms, as if it was a mission and Mingyu was trying to devise a plan. There’s a look in his eye and his body position is careful, distant, as if Mingyu is thinking very intently about what to do next, because he knows, he  _ knows _ , that one word could break Wonwoo’s heart.

(He has already broken his heart a thousand times, not just in Tokyo, but there was New York City and Bangkok and every other place where Wonwoo had to watch him leave.)

Mingyu looks up slowly, and he looks sick and weak, but Wonwoo loves him and could never let him go, never untangle his fingers and leave.

Mingyu says, “Stay with me,” and it sounds hesitant, like a question.

Wonwoo has never been able to refuse Mingyu, so he says, “yes.”

 

\---

 

The rest of Taipei passes like this:

Squeezing themselves together on the narrow hospital bed because Mingyu never lets go of his hand and Wonwoo can’t bear being away from him. Mingyu doesn’t say anything, just traces patterns over Wonwoo’s skin, but Wonwoo understands anyways. He fall asleeps with Mingyu curled into him, his breaths in his ear, and warm, so warm.

In the morning, the doctor comes in and tells them that Mingyu can leave because the wound healed pretty nicely, but that he should always remain somewhere with access to a doctor should the would reopen. Jeonghan comes in after the doctor leaves, and tells Mingyu to take it easy, meaning that he would prefer that Mingyu not get shot again anytime soon.

Mingyu goes to his room to pack his bags, and Wonwoo makes a move to follow after him, but Jeonghan grabs him by the arm before he can go and says, “take care of him, okay?”

Wonwoo isn’t sure where Jeonghan got the notion that he had any right to be the one to look over Mingyu, or that Mingyu would even allow Wonwoo to take care of him, but he nods and promises anyways. 

“I can stay here,” Mingyu says when Wonwoo finds him later on. “I can rest here, lay low for a little bit.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at that, because he knows Mingyu and knows that if he stays in Taipei, he’ll go and do something dumb and land himself right back in that hospital bed again. So, Wonwoo says, “I have an apartment in Seoul.”

Mingyu looks at him in disgust, and says, “I am not moving in with you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t care, and when he’s pulling Mingyu into a taxi to go to the airport, Mingyu mutters under his breath about how Wonwoo is abducting him against his will, to which Wonwoo replies, “whatever you say, darling.”

Mingyu falls silent at that and just lets Wonwoo trace the lines on his palm, but Wonwoo can see the reflection of Mingyu’s smile in the window.

On the plane, Mingyu goes silent as Taipei falls away underneath them, and Wonwoo glances worriedly at his gray complexion. 

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks, and Mingyu snaps his eyes up at him in surprise, as if he had forgotten that Wonwoo was there. 

“I just, I haven’t been to Seoul, not since I left.” It’s weak, and Wonwoo doesn’t know what to say in response, he can only imagine how much Mingyu hates Seoul because it’s probably just as much as Wonwoo hates Seoul, except Mingyu doesn’t have a brother to watch from afar. 

He opts to remain silent and just reaches to lay a hand on Mingyu’s thigh, hesitant and unsure. Mingyu flinches at the touch, and Wonwoo is ready to pull away, already redrawing the boundary lines in his head. But then Mingyu is reaching for him, covering his hand with his own, and Wonwoo remembers Mingyu saying  _ stay with me _ and realizes that there aren’t anymore boundaries, not anymore. 

 

\---

 

They get to Seoul late, and then crawl into bed and sleep for twenty hours straight. 

When Wonwoo wakes up, the fading light from the sky is shifting across the room and painting it in orange and violet. Mingyu is sitting in a chair by the window, looking outside, and the sunlight catching in his hair, surrounding him with a halo. He had parted open the dark curtains that Wonwoo has hanging over the windows, always kept closed because Wonwoo hates the grays of Seoul and would much rather pretend that this is anywhere else.

Mingyu is wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of trackpants, something that Wonwoo has never seen before. If Wonwoo tries hard enough, he could pretend that Mingyu was just another college student, one that hadn’t thrown his entire life away so he could chase after the thrill of the mafia.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, his voice raspy and scratchy after all the hours of sleep.

Mingyu looks at him, and he looks so soft that Wonwoo can’t help the gentle smile making it’s way onto his lips.

“Hi,” Mingyu replies, hesitant and unsure. In Wonwoo’s mind, the boundary lines are hanging in the air above them, not sure where to place themselves.

He gets up. The apartment is barren, Wonwoo never having cause to furnish it and make it a real home, but Wonwoo keeps a well-kept stash of tea in the cabinet. “What kind of tea do you like?” he asks Mingyu, fishing around for the kettle that he knows is somewhere in there.

“Jasmine,” Mingyu replies, and Wonwoo files it under all of the things that he didn’t know about Mingyu but is slowly learning, has time to learn, now. 

“Your apartment is nice,” Mingyu says, his hands in his jeans, and he looks like a bashful teenager. “I like it.”

Wonwoo scoffs, putting the kettle on the stove. “I hate it,” he admits. “It’s kind of awful.”

Mingyu smiles at him, bright and dazzling, and it warms Wonwoo amidst the grays of Seoul. 

But then, it disappears, and Mingyu says, “This doesn’t change anything.” The warmth abandons Wonwoo, quickly and cruelly, and he just stares at Mingyu as the boundary lines in the air quickly configure themselves to what they used to be. “I meant what I said in Tokyo, and me being here doesn’t change any of that.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo says, and he feels tired, so tired, looking at Mingyu as he slips further and further from his grasp. (Not that he was ever in his grasp in the first place.)

Mingyu looks, or rather, glares, out the window at the city below. “I hate Seoul,” he says, and there’s something cruel in the tone of his voice. “I hate Seoul so much. I’m not like you, you know. You told me about your brother, and how you were running away from all of this, running away from your brother’s disease in hopes that it could never catch either of you. Trying to outrun death by dishing it out to others instead.”

“I,” Mingyu says, voice softer, “was not running away from anything. I’m not like you Wonwoo, I’m not good like you. I was running towards this. I was in university. I was going to study architecture, you know.”

Wonwoo didn’t know. He only knew what Mingyu had offered him, sparse bones barely enough to feed his love for him, like how he liked to be kissed, how he liked to be touched, the little anecdotes about his childhood and the orange tree that grew in the backyard. 

“Why didn’t you?” Wonwoo asks.

Mingyu smiles, soft and real and sweet and beautiful, and then shrugs. “It always felt like something was missing. I guess I was just better at destroying things than I was at trying to build them. I was happy, I thought I was happy, but then I found Seungcheol and I realized that I wasn’t happy, not really. And then I found this job, this life, and I felt real and it wasn’t something I had ever felt before."

The kettle starts to shriek. Wonwoo quickly deals with it. 

Mingyu stares at him blankly. “And being back in Seoul, it takes all of that away. I feel like I’m still some twenty-one year old who thought he was happy.” 

Wonwoo steps towards him, pulling him in by the waist, and Mingyu frowns at him before saying, “I’m not done yet.”

“Of course you aren’t,” Wonwoo says. 

Mingyu shoves at him a little bit, and then says, “My point is that I hate Seoul, and I still don’t think this will work because we want very different things.”

Wonwoo pulls him in closer, sliding his fingers into Mingyu’s waistband and pulling until they’re pressed chest to chest. “This won’t work,” Mingyu whispers, “and I still hate Seoul, but here I am. I’m here because I want to be here, with you. And I think that if you want, we should try it anyways.”

Wonwoo pulls away and looks at him, and he thinks that he could never look away.

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows unhappily and clasps his hands in Wonwoo’s shirt. “I’m done now,” he says, frustrated, “if you don’t want to-”

“No,” Wonwoo says, because how could Mingyu possibly think that he doesn’t want this? It’s been months, almost a year since Auckland and all Wonwoo has ever thought about is Mingyu. He’s traced a map of the world on Mingyu’s skin, fallen in love with him city by city. And he never thought that he could have this, would be allowed to have this, but here Mingyu is, offering it up on a silver plate. 

And deep down, Wonwoo knows that this will never work, not with them, not with Mingyu wanting what he wants and Wonwoo wants what he wants, but for right now, it’s enough, because they just want each other. And he has Mingyu here, willing to try, and Wonwoo thinks that Mingyu is incredibly dumb if he thinks that Wonwoo would ever pass this up for anything.

“I do want,” Wonwoo whispers, “I want this, Mingyu. God, I want this.”

Mingyu smiles then, and Wonwoo could never get used to that beautiful smile of his, and wraps his arms around Wonwo’s neck. “Okay,” he whispers, and then he’s tugging Wonwoo in close. 

They kiss, long into the night, and Mingyu laughs, somehow managing to light up Seoul with it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't worry, there's still plenty of more angst to come your way.
> 
> I hope you liked the backstory in this one; I tried to make their backstories as close to their characters as possible and provide an insight as to why Wonwoo and Mingyu are so different.


	3. Seoul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They pieced themselves together, city by city, only to fall apart in Seoul.

This is Seoul:

Waking up to Mingyu beside him, and Wonwoo just looking, looking his fill, because he can do that now. When Mingyu wakes up, blinking sleepily at him, Wonwoo just smiles and pulls him in, pressing kisses to his neck.

Taking walks out in the city at night, Mingyu reaching for Wonwoo’s hand first and Wonwoo enjoying the warmth it provides, the warmth he feels when he’s touching Mingyu.

Lazily rocking against each other in bed, Wonwoo watching as Mingyu’s eyes shine with something beautiful and he falls more in love with Mingyu than he ever thought possible.

Mingyu laughing at him when he accidentally burns dinner, before taking the pans from him and making something else. That’s how Wonwoo learns that Mingyu can cook, another thing that he files under all the information that he knows about Mingyu, all the little things that he loves. 

Flying out to Hong Kong to celebrate Samuel’s fifth birthday. Minghao and Junhui smile at them when they walk in, and Samuel screams in joy when Wonwoo picks him up and swings him around. And even though Wonwoo has known Samuel basically his entire life, or his life ever since Minghao and Junhui adopted him when he was two, Samuel decides that he likes Mingyu the best, wrapping himself around his leg and shrieking in joy whenever Mingyu takes a step. Wonwoo laughs at the sight, and Mingyu grins at him and pulls him in for a kiss, muttering, “What, I like kids,” before pulling away. Samuel screams “ew!” at them until Mingyu drops a kiss on his forehead too. 

Taking Mingyu to the school, the one his brother goes to, and showing him what his brother looks like. Mingyu wraps his arms around Wonwoo, both of them in the shadows to avoid being seen, and whispers, “He looks happy and healthy to me. You did good.” Wonwoo smiles at him, the tears building up in his eyes, because it’s nice to know that someone else can see what the mafia has done for him, what it has done for his brother. Mingyu holds him some more, and this goes under the file of things that Mingyu knows about Wonwoo that no one else does.

Brushing his teeth only to see Mingyu in the mirror, leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, his arms crossed and a dopey smile on his face. Wonwoo spits out the toothpaste and asks, “what?” and Mingyu shakes his head and says, “nothing, I love you, that’s all.”

Wonwoo turns to him, reaching out with his arms to wrap them around Mingyu’s waist, and presses a kiss to his collarbone, right about the mole he has there. “Say it again,” Wonwoo whispers, and Mingyu does, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you,” as Wonwoo pushes him towards the bed, peppering him with soft kisses all over his skin.

Wonwoo wishes that they could stay like this forever.

 

\---

 

But.

Neither of them will remember those couple of weeks, but they will remember the weeks after.

This is the way they fall apart:

The way that the flat seems to close in on Wonwoo, the gray walls creeping in on him everyday until he feels like he can’t breathe. It doesn’t help that Mingyu is there too, taking up room with his messes. There are clothes everywhere, clutters of things that Wonwoo definitely didn’t put there, and Mingyu is just always there. Wonwoo had thought that his apartment was big enough for two, but he had lived alone for so long that he can’t get used to Mingyu’s presence hanging around all the time. (But it’s not a problem, because he wants this.)

The way that Mingyu doesn’t seem to understand that Wonwoo doesn’t want to go out to the bar every couple of nights. The way that Mingyu has to flirt with literally every single person that he meets and doesn’t understand when Wonwoo gets upset about it. 

The way that Mingyu irritably tells him that he doesn’t want to go to Hong Kong because they always go to Hong Kong and he has had enough of double dates with Junhui and Minghao and that if Wonwoo wanted to see them so much, then he could go by himself. The way that Mingyu outright tells Wonwoo that he’s bored and wants to travel, and that maybe he should go by himself and not have to deal with Wonwoo’s grumpy old man attitude for once. 

The way that they argue, starting with dumb things like not starting the washer or leaving the shoes in the hall and then ending with the two of them screaming things that they regret in each other’s faces. The way Wonwoo spends hours wandering around Seoul, a city that he hates, because he hates the silence of his apartment more. The way that Mingyu spends every night after a fight in the spare bedroom until the fights keep multiplying so he just moves into the spare bedroom instead.

The way Mingyu answers the phone, and Wonwoo can hear Seungcheol on the other side with a job offer, and Wonwoo doesn't know if Mingyu will take it, doesn't really know what Mingyu will do. The way there’s a quick glance between them, then Mingyu is saying, “no thank you,” and hanging up the phone. The way he doesn't look at Wonwoo afterwards, just stares out the window, and Wonwoo feels unbearably guilty because he knows that Mingyu did it for him, turned down the job because he thought that that was what Wonwoo wanted.

The way that Mingyu yells at him, during one really bad one, “Are you happy now? You got what you wanted, haven’t you?”

The way that Wonwoo looks between them, at how unhappy they are, and says, “This is not what I wanted.” 

The way that Mingyu storms out the door, slamming it and leaving Wonwoo flinching in the middle of the living room.

The way Wonwoo stays up all night, staring at the door, ignoring the pit in his stomach and wondering if this is it, if this is when he loses Mingyu for good. 

The way Mingyu comes home the next morning, reeking of alcohol and misery, and kneels in front of Wonwoo and whispers “I'm sorry.” The way that Wonwoo doesn't know what he's apologizing for: if it's for screaming or if it's for fighting in the first place or if it's for this entire mess of a situation they got themselves into.

The way Wonwoo doesn't say anything, just watches as Mingyu retreats into the bedroom. The way that he hates this mockery of a relationship that they forced themselves into.

The way he waits for a couple of moments before pulling out his phone and going to an airline ticket booking website. 

The way he picks the first place that comes to mind, and when the website asks  _ roundtrip or one-way _ , Wonwoo selects  _ one-way _ .

 

\---

 

It's a strange feeling to be running away from Mingyu rather than chasing after him.

 

\---

 

Wonwoo doesn’t remember where he goes. He doesn’t remember the chattering tourists in Tokyo, or the packed bar in Singapore, or the beautiful skyline of Manila. He doesn’t remember the hotel rooms he gets because he can’t stay in the headquarters, not when they remind him of Mingyu. 

All he will remember is staring at his phone before he falls asleep, wondering if it will ring. He remembers waiting for a call that never comes. 

He remembers falling asleep while wondering how it was that they had pieced themselves together, city by city, only to fall apart in Seoul.

 

\---

 

But the there's Hong Kong. Wonwoo will remember Hong Kong forever.

He’s staying in an apartment that Junhui had bought ages ago, when he was still a lowly operative and was in need of a break from all of this. He stays for around week, long enough for his knife and guns to find permanent places in the household and long enough for the people at the market to recognize him as the man who speaks extremely poor Cantonese. 

He doesn’t take any jobs, barely fending off Junhui’s attempts at getting him to take one. Wonwoo decides that he should probably move on soon. It’ll only be a little while before Junhui has had it with him and decides to let Mingyu know where he’s hiding.

He opens the front door and heads to the living room to grab a gun he had taped to the underside of the couch.

And then he stops. 

“What,” Mingyu says coldly, “the fuck.”

Wonwoo takes in the sight of him, his eyes flickering over him because he hasn't seen him in months. He’s sitting in one of the ratty armchairs that Junhui owns and Wonwoo doesn’t trust at all, wearing exactly the same clothes that he was wearing when Wonwoo had left: ripped black jeans that seem to hang off of him more than usual and an old sweatshirt that has a couple of holes in the hem. His dark brown eyes are trained on the door, bloodshot, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in ages. He’s thin, much thinner than he was when Wonwoo had last seen him, and his face is scruffy, as if he’s forgotten to shave in the past couple of weeks. 

He’s still as beautiful as ever. 

And also as deadly as ever, since it seems that he’s found the gun Wonwoo had taped to the underside of the couch and currently has it trained on Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo says, “That took you longer than I thought it would.”

“Did it,” Mingyu says, ice cold. “I’m sorry it took me so long to go literally every fucking headquarter and threaten Junhui until he told me where to find you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know what to say, so he just looks at the gun in Mingyu’s hand and asks, “Did you really come all the way here just to shoot me?”

Mingyu stares back unrelentingly and says, “I’m seriously considering it.”

Wonwoo closes his eyes.

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks of drinking himself sick with hopes that he’ll forget that he left Mingyu in Seoul, that he finally caught the one thing that he wanted for so long only to realize that he couldn’t keep it. Three weeks of wondering where they went wrong, why they fit so well together in Jakarta and New York City and Tokyo and Auckland, only to fall apart in Seoul. Three weeks of wondering when it will stop hurting, when Wonwoo will fall out of love with Mingyu.

Three weeks of realizing that there will be no falling out of love, not for Wonwoo.

Mingyu says, quietly and tiredly, “You left.”

Wonwoo opens his eyes and wishes that he hadn’t. Because Mingyu looks miserable, clutching onto the gun with trembling hands and bloodshot eyes, running probably off of no sleep and high doses of caffeine. There’s pain in his eyes, pain that Wonwoo understands because it’s a pain he sees every time he looks in the mirror. 

Pain. Wonwoo caused that. Wonwoo was the one who hurt him.

Wonwoo says, “You were right. It was never going to work.”

Mingyu laughs, and it sounds shattered and weak to Wonwoo’s ears. “So you left.”

Wonwoo sits down on the sofa, across from the armchair. “I couldn’t stay, Mingyu. We were miserable.”

Mingyu’s head snaps up, and his eyes are alight with fury. “So your solution was to just leave?” He laughs, slightly hysterical. “Fuck you. Just- fuck you, Wonwoo. You don’t get to just leave. You don’t get to just walk away from this, from more than a year of this, like it was some dumbass experiment or something, like it was insignificant, you don’t just get to-”

“We didn’t work,” Wonwoo says, and he feels absolutely helpless. “You were the one who told me that.”

“That doesn’t mean that I wanted you to leave!” Mingyu yells. 

Wonwoo says softly, “Is this how it is? You can leave me in Tokyo, but I can’t leave you?”

Mingyu’s mouth thins into an unhappy line. Wonwoo hates it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo continues. “You were right. We don’t fit.”

“Shut up,” Mingyu says. “Just- shut the fuck up. You have all these stupid ideas of what love is supposed to be like. You think that in order to be in love we have to have a house and kids and dinner together every singly fucking night. That’s not us, we’re not made to fit like that. That, back there? In Seoul? That was not us, okay? We’re New York and Hong Kong and Bangkok and Taipei and Auckland and all the other places. You’ve got to stop comparing us to fucking Junhui and Minghao because we’re never going to be them, never going to fit like them. I don’t want to fit like them.”

Mingyu’s hand loosens around the gun and he leans forward to catch Wonwoo’s eye. His face is painted with the reds of Hong Kong and his hair is sticking up in a thousand different angles and he looks beautiful. The hysteria in his eyes softens into something warmer, something more hopeful, as he looks at Wonwoo. 

Mingyu says, his voice low and gentle, “This is us, Wonwoo. Not Seoul, but this, running around the world together, this is us. This is me.”

“I know,” Wonwoo whispers. “And I love you for it.”

Mingyu freezes, his eyes wide. “You’ve never said that to me before.”

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows. “Of course I have.”

“No,” Mingyu says, “you haven’t.”

Wonwoo can’t breathe. 

Of course he has, Wonwoo thinks. Of course he has, because he’s thought it every single waking moment of his life, ever since Tokyo. He’s thought it with every touch, every kiss, every smile, every glance. He’s traced his entire path around the world into Mingyu’s skin, memorizes all the cities by the way Mingyu looks under their lights. He loves Mingyu so much, so much that he thinks it must be a vital reason for his survival or inscripted in his genes or something, because he can’t stop.

Except, Wonwoo can’t remember ever saying it.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu says. “It’s not like I didn’t know.”

Wonwoo looks at him, and it hurts, how much he loves him. He loves Mingyu like he breathes, like Mingyu is all he could ever need. Mingyu lets out a slow breath, and then comes to sit next to Wonwoo, their thighs brushing together but no closer, like Mingyu is afraid that Wonwoo will run if he does anything more.

“I love you,” Wonwoo whispers, just so Mingyu can hear it again. “But you don’t understand. It’s not about wanting what Junhui and Minghao have. I want those things too. I’m twenty-five, I can’t keep doing this forever, chasing you around the world and watching you leave me. I can’t keep doing that.”

Mingyu reaches out and curls his fingers gently around Wonwoo’s wrist. 

“I know,” Mingyu says. “But that’s us. You can’t keep trying to force us to be something that we’re not. We are chasing each other around the world. We are Tokyo and New York and all these places. I don’t want this forever either, but I don’t think either of us are ready for Seoul yet. I don’t want to do that right now. Maybe in a couple of years, we can try again, at that sort of permanence that you want. Except, then, we’ll both want it."

Wonwoo looks at him, and Mingyu is smiling softly, as beautiful as ever. It sounds so easy, so simple. 

Wonwoo mutters, “You sound sure.”

Mingyu laughs, and it warms Wonwoo to his core. “I am sure,” he says, leaning closer to Wonwoo. “I left you in Tokyo and you still came after me in Taipei. How could I not be sure?”

Wonwoo can’t help but smile, a ridiculous smile that must look psychotic. He can’t help but reach up and thread his fingers into Mingyu’s hair. “We’ll fuck this up,” he whispers. “You know we will.”

“I’ll shoot you next time,” Mingyu says, “if that’s what it takes.”

Wonwoo laughs. “You know there aren’t actually any bullets in that gun.”

Mingyu looks down at the gun in his hand, looking as if it had done him a grievous wrong. “Well,” he mutters unhappily, “the next one will be loaded, trust me.”

Wonwoo smiles, leaning into Mingyu’s warmth. Mingyu continues to glare at him jokingly, muttering, “You deserve to be shot.”

“Probably,” Wonwoo agrees, helplessly happy. 

“If you leave again,” Mingyu threatens, “I’ll-”

“Shh,” Wonwoo says, and leans in to catch Mingyu’s lips with his. He tastes as sweet as ever, and Wonwoo puts all the love he possibly could into it. “I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is an absolute mess, but I was struggling with how I wanted the conversation between Mingyu and Wonwoo to go down. It's not really a resolution, but I hope it shows the compromise they are willing to make in their relationship, for each other. 
> 
> Of course, that is the end to all of the angst in this! I'll probably add an epilogue to this just to show that yes, they will be happy in the future. 
> 
> As always, I love comments and kudos. Let me know what you thought of this whole rollercoaster of a journey.
> 
> And look out for an ending soon!


	4. And All the Places In Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Years Later

**_Three Years Later_ **

 

Today is not a good day. Wonwoo has dealt with too many idiots in the past twenty four hours, from operatives that don’t know which end of the gun is the one that bullets come out of to secretaries that cannot, for the life of them, do what they are told to do.

He sighs in frustration, slamming the phone down on the receiver after telling the new operative that he needs to go back to whatever hellhole Seungcheol dug him out of because he was absolutely no good at this. Then, he picks up the phone to call Seungcheol, fully intending on giving him an earful about sending him operatives that were clearly not ready to take on any missions.

At that precise moment, Ms. Kang, a secretary he’s had for a couple years and trusts not to screw anything up, sticks her head into his office, her glasses slipping softly down her nose.

“Wonwoo,” she says, “I have an operative who is willing to take the Park mission.”

Wonwoo frowns back at her. The Park mission had landed on his desk a couple of months ago, and so far, no operative has had the balls to pick it up. It was a difficult mission with a difficult target. It also had a large price tag. Had Wonwoo still been in service as an operative, he would have taken it.

However, now, as the head of the Seoul headquarters, it was his job to make sure that the operative who had decided to take the mission would most likely end up on the other end of the mission alive and not in a body bag.

“Who?” Wonwoo asks. “If it’s anyone like that new guy, tell them to go to hell.”

Ms. Kang smiles at him, something sarcastic and vaguely insinuating, and says, “no, I think he’ll do the job well enough.”

And well, there’s only one person that can make Ms. Kang smile at Wonwoo in such a way, and Wonwoo beams, telling her, “well then, get him here by tomorrow morning.”

 

\---

 

When Mingyu steps into the lobby of the headquarters, Wonwoo makes sure that he is there to greet him.

Mingyu cocks a grin at him, an easy side-smile that could almost be considered a smirk, before bowing to him.

“Mr. Jeon,” Mingyu says, his voice low and sultry, and Wonwoo swears that if Mingyu doesn’t cut it out, he will pop a very embarrassing boner right here in the lobby. “Pleasure to see you again."

“Good to see you too, Mr. Kim,” Wonwoo replies, ushering Mingyu into the elevator to get up to his office. “What has it been, a couple of weeks?”

Mingyu grins at him in the privacy of the elevator, a grin that says that he knows Wonwoo is just pretending as if he hasn’t been counting the days, hours, minutes, and seconds since he last saw Mingyu.

It’s easy for them just to meet in the middle, Wonwoo sliding his hands easily into Mingyu’s hair as they kiss and familiarize each other with their tastes again, after two weeks, three days, and more or less four hours.

It’s been three years of this relationship, ever since Mingyu had found him in Hong Kong, but Mingyu still tastes the same. They’ve both got a couple of more scars and bruises, but they’re still looking at each other the same way. And Wonwoo is still every bit in love with Mingyu as he was so many years ago.

Somewhere along the line, Seungcheol had proposed developing a headquarters in Seoul, and Wonwoo took the opportunity to assume a position of power, hanging up his knife and guns forever and letting others do his dirty work for him. It’s been a couple of years, and Wonwoo has long gotten a hang of running a mafia hub in South Korea’s capital, handling missions and cash and operatives.

Mingyu continued to work for the entire organization, flitting around from headquarter to headquarter, and they would still manage to see each other quite frequently. It helped that a lot of rich people in Seoul were willing to pay money for important people to die, and that Mingyu was always willing to take the missions that were too difficult for others.

They somehow made it work, and Wonwoo couldn’t ask for anything better.

 

\---

 

“It’s not impossible,” Mingyu says around a mouthful of rice. “It’s definitely doable. I think it’ll be easy.”

“Let’s not get cocky now,” Wonwoo says. “It’s still dangerous.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. They’re sitting in Wonwoo office, the sunset orange and silver of Seoul’s city lights dancing into the room through the large windows and weaving their way into Mingyu’s messy hair. It’s been a couple of hours since Mingyu arrived, and after other _various_ activities, they’re currently scouring over the mission blueprints.

“Life is dangerous, Wonwoo,” Mingyu says, jabbing his chopsticks in his general direction. “Besides, I’m good at this. It’ll be easy.”

Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow. “You’re good, but you still got shot in Taipei.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes again, but there’s something sweet in it. “That was three years ago, Wonwoo. Let it go.”

Wonwoo shrugs at him. “Could still happen again, Gyu. Doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

“It won’t,” Mingyu says, “at least not in Taipei.”

Wonwoo says, “Last time I checked, guns still functioned in Taipei."

“Not what I meant,” Mingyu says. He leans forward in his chair, depositing the finished plate onto the table and pushing the papers out of the way so that he can lay himself across Wonwoo’s desk. He fingers Wonwoo’s tie, pulling him close.

“Wonwoo,” he whispers, close to Wonwoo’s ear, and Wonwoo valiantly resists the shivers trying to run their way down his spine. “I’ve been thinking.”

Wonwoo replies, hoarsely, “Always a dangerous activity for you, Gyu.”

Mingyu ignores the insult, instead dragging Wonwoo closer to the table and pulling back so that he can look him in the eye. “I don’t want to go to Taipei anymore.”

Wonwoo blinks. “Has Jeonghan done something?”

Shaking his head, Mingyu chuckles, like he can’t believe that Wonwoo is twenty-eight and still this dumb. “I don’t really want to go anywhere anymore,” Mingyu says. “Anywhere that’s not Seoul.”

Wonwoo gapes at him. “What?”

Mingyu giggles nervously, his cheeks flushing magnificently. “Are you going deaf?” he asks teasingly. “I think old age is getting to you.”

Wonwoo is still reeling from what Mingyu had just said, and he reaches forward to grip at the edge of the desk. “Mingyu-” he stammers out. “Are you asking to be a permanent operative here?”

“Well,” Mingyu says, and he’s staring back at him, suddenly shy. “I still have to put in a request, but Seungcheol has already approved it, so all that’s left is for the head of the Seoul headquarters to approve too.”

Wonwoo is still staring in shock. It’s been three years, three years of loving Mingyu and being happy with him, watching him leave but always come back. But now, Mingyu is asking to stay here, with him, permanently. To never have to leave Seoul again. To never have to leave Wonwoo again.

It’s almost like a marriage proposal.

Mingyu is still staring at him nervously, his hand still gripping loosely at Wonwoo’s tie. It’s foolish, Wonwoo thinks, for him to look that nervous when he knows that Wonwoo has never stood a chance at saying no to him.

“It’s approved,” Wonwoo whispers, slightly breathless.

Mingyu’s lips spread into a bright smile, as brilliant and enthralling as it was on the day they first met, before shrinking into something softer, much fonder, and it makes Wonwoo feel utterly and completely in love with him.

 

\---

 

They make their way into bed eventually, too tired after planning to do anything, and just curl around each other. Wonwoo relishes in Mingyu’s warmth, knowing that he’ll never have to face an empty, cold bed again, not with Mingyu staying here with him.

Wonwoo watches as the silvers and yellows of Seoul gently cradle themselves around the two of them, soft and sweet on Mingyu’s skin. Wonwoo follows the shades with his fingers, and Mingyu huffs above him in amusement as he watches.

For three years, this is what he had been waiting for. He was happy, as happy as he always was when he was with Mingyu, but he had been waiting for this. There was a promise made in Hong Kong, a promise of forever, a promise that one day, Mingyu would stay.

Mingyu would stay, and Wonwoo would never leave. Somehow, it felt like a new beginning for them, which was slightly ridiculous because they’ve been together for years and knew each other like the back of their own hands. But Wonwoo could never ask for anything more than this, to have Mingyu, who he had fallen in love with city by city and continues to fall in love with everyday in Seoul, here with him.

“I love you,” Wonwoo whispers, voice unwavering.

Mingyu grins at him, with a special smile that Wonwoo knows is reserved just for him. “How much do you love me?” Mingyu asks teasingly.

Wonwoo thinks for a moment. He could say ‘to the moon and back’ or something equally as cheesy, but the answer comes to him, unbidden.

“From Auckland to Seoul.”

Mingyu giggles at that, and the sound is so endearing and entirely _Mingyu_ that Wonwoo’s heart swells in his chest.

“From Auckland to Seoul,” Mingyu repeats, and he's got a dumb grin stretched across his face. “And all the places in between?”

Wonwoo nods. “And all the places in between,” he says, a whisper against Mingyu’s lips.

They kiss, and in the back of Wonwoo’s mind, he thinks that out of all the places he has been in the world, his favorite place is here: with Mingyu beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is the end of this fic! It's sort of been my baby for the past couple of weeks, so thank you all for reading!
> 
> I hope the ending does Wonwoo and Mingyu justice, because they deserve all the happiness in the world.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this story, and again, thank you all for taking the time to read this mess of a fic :)

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Note: All of the cities mentioned in the story so far are cities named in Check In! Also, all of the members are heads of their own headquarters, except for Wonwoo and Mingyu (obviously) and Jun and Minghao, who run the Hong Kong headquarters together. Also, Hansol is the only member that I did not explicitly put in the story (sorry hansol bb), but he runs the New York headquarters!
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Follow me on twitter @sunshinesvt!


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